


Me Without You

by WhouffleLover24



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 12:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11417562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhouffleLover24/pseuds/WhouffleLover24
Summary: "I'm tired of this! I'm tired of what you do and how you act every single bloody day! I am done, Sherlock! Done!"That's the last thing Sherlock heard from John before John stormed out of their flat.At first it was no more than a nuisance to Sherlock. But then, he realised something.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Sherlock Fanfiction, so if you have any mistakes you notice, please tell me; I am welcome to any corrections! 
> 
> Warning: There will be some swearing in this.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock BBC

——————————————————

"I'm tired of this! I'm tired of what you do and how you act every single bloody day! I am done, Sherlock! Done!"

 

That was the final thing Sherlock heard from John before John had stormed out of 221B. Sherlock presumed that John would return that night. Or the next day; but John didn't.

 

At first, Sherlock paced around the flat, angry and annoyed. John was being absurd. What did John think he was doing, just storming off?

 

But after one week passed, and John had not returned; after the countless calls and texts to John he had made, all ignored, he felt less irritated and more of, well, more of worry. And no matter how many times the phrase:

_Caring is not an advantage Sherlock,_

ran through his head, he still worried. He still... he still cared for John. And it drove him insane not knowing where John was. He wasn't used to not knowing, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

 

He groaned as he sipped a cup of now cold tea and looked out the window at the pouring rain; like it would help him find out where John was. Or as if John would pass by the window and come back to 221B. But alas, that didn't work.

 

He turned around briskly and sat down his tea cup, collapsing in his chair with a slight pout on his face.

 

John would come back, it was inevitable. John had left many of his belongings in 221B.

 

But when? When would John come back? And why was John so mad when he left? Did Sherlock really push John past the limit this time?

 

But no matter how long he wondered, he never got an answer.

 

\------------

 

It was three weeks after John had left 221B at 2 AM when Greg Lestrade, (who was sleeping quite peacefully he might add) got the call. He blearily reached for his mobile, mumbling about the ungodly hour, "Hello. DI Lestrade speaking."

 

"Hello, Lestrade. I find it a necessity that I inform you of something."

 

"Sorry, who is this?"

 

"Please Lestrade, you know who I am. Now, I really must get on with this. This will greatly interest my brother."

 

"Mycroft? What- Why the hell are you calling me at 2 AM? Are you sure this couldn't have waited for a more reasonable hour?"

 

"I assure you that now is a more desirable time. I have a case for you and I be under the impression that my brother would like to hear this as soon as possible."

 

"What's the case?"

\------------

Sherlock calculated it had been approximately 2:45 AM when he was interrupted from his musings by three knocks on the door.

 

_Knock knock knock_

 

Sherlock threw open the door where Lestrade was standing.

 

"What do you want George? I was thinking."

 

Greg winced at Sherlock's messy state. His wrinkled robe was hanging loose on his gaunt frame and there were dark circles under his eyes, contrasting against his too pale skin. He had forgotten how poorly Sherlock took care of himself before John came along.

 

Sherlock's irritated voice rang out and yanked him from his thoughts, "If you don't have anything to say of importance, leave."

 

Greg shook his head, "Mycroft called."

 

"What does he want? Tips on a new diet?"

 

"No, he called about a possible case. Said you'd probably be interested."

 

Sherlock fell into his chair, "What kind of case? I prefer not to be too involved with the British government. Dealing with Mycroft is enough. Dealing with his minions would drive anyone to the point of insanity."

 

"The case is about a mysterious attack."

 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "An attack? Why did he call about that? He, his minions, or even the Yard could probably solve the case. There are plenty more things already consuming my mind. The last thing I want clogging up my brain more is a pointless case right now."

 

"It's more than that Sherlock."

 

"What is 'more' about it?"

 

"The victim of the attack was John Watson."  
\--------------------------------------

  
Next Chapter is coming up soon!


	2. Can't Think Without Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first pieces of the puzzle come together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Back Again! Thank you to everyone who is reading this story! 
> 
> Once again, corrections are welcome!
> 
> Note: I just realized that I had many typos... My iPhone typing skills aren't the best, so I've moved to my laptop!

—————————————————

"What?" Sherlock quickly stood up, nearly knocking over his chair.

 

"Sherlock-"

 

"Where is he?"

 

"Sherlock! Calm dow-"

 

"My Jo-my colleague is in danger; I need to know where he is."

 

Lestrade sighed, "He was found unconscious and was sent to the nearest A&E about two hours ago. He has several broken bones-"

 

"What?" The question came out, dangerously grounded, in a way that would scare any person        -criminal or not- away.

 

Lestrade breathed deeply, "God help me."

 

Sherlock threw on his coat and made his way to the door, "I'm going."

 

Lestrade followed, "Where?"

 

"To the A&E of course. Don't ask stupid questions."

 

Lestrade blocked Sherlock's path, "I know you want to see John, Sherlock, I do too. But what about the attacker? He needs to be arrested! We can't let him loose! What if he does something else! What then?!"

 

Sherlock shoved  Lestrade out of the way, "I can not find the attacker without knowing the wellbeing of John. I will work on it tomorrow, it can wait."

 

"Sher-"

 

Sherlock snapped around and slammed the door. Lestrade sat down on the floor, his head in his hands, "'It can wait?' People's lives can wait? God, Sherlock can't think without John."

—————————

Sherlock ran out onto the sidewalk and started running. Now that he thought about it, he should have gotten a cab. It would've taken much less time and effort. (But then again, when you're running to see your friend who had several broken bones and unconscious, you don't really think about those things)

 

After 10 minutes of endless running, pushing random people out of his way and into poles, Sherlock ran into the entrance of the A&E and to the desk.

 

"I want to visit John Watson. Where is he?"

 

The lady looked up, "Are you related to him?"

 

"No."

 

"Sorry, unfortunately, only family members can visit him right now. You might have to wait a bit."

 

"I'm his flatmate!"

 

"I'm sorry sir. But only family members are allowed to see him."

 

"I need to see him!"

 

"Sir, I say it once I say it again-"

 

A feminine voice rang out behind them, sliding into their conversation, "I think this man is allowed to see John Watson." Their heads snapped around to see Anthea, standing there, perfectly calm.

 

The lady cocked her head, "Sorry, who are you?"

 

Anthea walked towards the lady,"My name has no concern to you. What is a concern to you is that my boss has a major role in the British Government, and the man you are talking to, just happens to be his brother. My boss would not be happy if you didn't let his brother visit his friend. On the contrary, if you don't allow him, there may be some, unfortunate consequences at the hands of my boss."

 

The lady's face filled with fright and glanced around nervously before looking at her computer, "Alright, he's in the room 726 on level B. But don't tell anyone I allowed you to visit; I could get fired."

 

Sherlock nodded and immediately took off running as the lady continued to speak to Anthea, "Are he and Mr. Watson really good friends?"

 

Anthea watched after Sherlock's running form, "Oh, they're more than that."

\-------------------

Sherlock ran up the stairs to level B and flung the door open to John's room. He walked to John's side. John was laid unconscious on a bed, with a cast on his arm, cuts scattered on his leg, and a bandage around his head. He felt a surge of anger in him; even if John left Sherlock, it didn't justify this. How dare anyone do this to John?

 

Sherlock swallowed thickly. He would find the person who did this. And he would make that person pay. He walked out of the room, he had work to do.

\------------------

 

He walked out of the A&E as a long, black, slick car pulled up. Sherlock huffed and the window slid down, revealing Mycroft, and surprisingly, a disheveled Lestrade. An everyday civilian would've been surprised how Mycroft could bring Lestrade into a car and then track down Sherlock was in such a small period of time. But Sherlock, being used to Mycroft's tendency to stalk people, found this only an annoyance and not anything special,

"Hello, brother mine."

 

"Hello, Mycroft. I see you kidnapped Lestrade. Is he another one of your minions?"

 

Mycroft pursed his lips, "Believe it or not, I had the Inspector's consent."

 

"Oh did you?"

 

Lestrade made himself known, "Sherlock. Please just listen to Mycroft."

 

Sherlock glared at Lestrade and kept quite.

 

Mycroft cleared his throat, "I'm presuming you want to know about Dr. Watson's attacker."

 

"Yes."

 

"That's what I thought. He has been arrested by Inspector Lestrade."

 

Sherlock cocked his eyebrow, "It was that easy? What was he, an idiot?"

 

"Well, he failed to shut down all the cameras, so I would presume he was an idiot. It really should've been a lot harder to find him. Even if it's archetypical other humans to be idiots," Lestrade shot a glare at Mycroft, "this level of idiocy is incredible."

 

"Where is the footage?"

 

"I have to show you in the car, Sherlock. Believe it or not, some things are meant to be confidential."

 

"What? Don't trust your minions?"

 

"Shut up and get into the car."

 

Sherlock got into the car and Mycroft handed him a tablet, "I downloaded the footage onto this tablet."

 

Sherlock nodded and began to scan the screen as he watched; his expression unreadable to Mycroft and Lestrade. Once the footage ended Mycroft spoke, "I have been able to identify the attacker using the footage. Like I said before, it was incredibly easy."

 

"Who was the assailant?"

 

"I matched his face with information from the archives. The assailant was a man of the name, William Humphrey Smith. I have his records," Mycroft handed Sherlock a manilla file, "I have personally not read them, but I'm sure they will help you."

 

Sherlock took the file, "When can I meet him?"

 

"Sorry?"

 

"I need to meet him. See who this man is. I've got a pretty good idea now, but I need more evidence."

 

Mycroft thought for a moment, "Alright. I can't schedule for you to meet him tomorrow evening at 7 PM at the prison, _HMP Pentonville_. But please don't create any conflict. It's not going to be of any help if you get arrested too."

 

Sherlock muttered thanks, (which surprised Lestrade greatly. Since when did Sherlock say thank you? Especially to his brother?) and exited the car.

 

"Sherlock!"

 

Sherlock turned to Mycroft, "What?"

 

"Good luck."

\--------------------------------------

Note: HMP Pentonville is a real prison in London!


	3. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The puzzle is solved, and Sherlock and John resolve what has been already known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't finish this earlier! I had to visit my family and then I got smacked in the face with a headache...  
> Remember: Corrections and suggestions are welcome!
> 
> Sorry in advance for weird food comparisons.
> 
> Also, I would like to say thank you to my friend (Who does not want her name released, so I'll call her Hufflepuff Fryiend. Yes, that's how she wants it spelled.) for reading over this chapter! She's a great friend and a great beta!
> 
> Update: So in the last chapter, I found some typos so I fixed them!

____________________________________________________________________

That next evening, Sherlock took a cab to  _HMP Pentonville_ , where Lestrade was standing there and waiting, "Why are you here?"

 

"Mycroft told me to come here to meet up with you. William Smith is in this prison," Lestrade motioned to the building behind him, "currently locked up."

 

"Am I going to meet him?"

 

Lestrade motioned towards him, "Yeah, come one."

 

Sherlock followed Lestrade into the building, passing security until they reached a door, "William Smith is in here. Now, no matter how angry you get, Sherlock, don't injure or murder this guy, ok?"

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "I won't commit homicide or mutilate his skeleton in any way."

 

"Good."

 

Sherlock huffed, turned away from Lestrade and entered the room, slamming the door behind him.

\-------------

Sherlock entered the room and studied, a pretty beat up William Smith who was sitting at a table in the room with a black eye, bruised cheek, and a broken leg. Sherlock had a pretty good feeling they were inflicted by John.

 

_Short, brown hair and brown eyes. Eyes are bloodshot, hair seems to be kept out of shape, and his teeth are yellow. Hands are rough, and posture is loose. Not quite in shape, but not out of shape either. Approximately 35, average height, give or take a few inches._

 

William raised an eyebrow, "You gonna talk or are you just gonna sit there?"

 

"Drug addict," Sherlock deadpanned.

 

"What?"

 

"You're a drug addict, an alcoholic, and you smoke, quite obvious really. Your yellow teeth show that you smoke, and your eyes are bloodshot; a common sign of drug addiction. The ring-shaped pale line on your ring finger clearly shows that you used to be married, recently divorced. Probably due to the addiction to drugs and alcohol."

 

"Oi! My life isn't your damn business you-"

 

Sherlock cut him off, "I think it is certainly my 'damn business'. Now, you better shut up before I break a few promises and punch you in the face right now."

 

William smirked, "Look here Holmes. I've heard of you, and I haven't heard of you breaking any promises."

 

Sherlock scoffed, "Then you've clearly haven't heard everything about me. If you had, you would’ve known that I am known for being an unpredictable psychopath. Now, I’ll say it again. Shut up or you're going to regret it.”

 

The older man glared at Sherlock and silenced as Sherlock continued, “Good. Now, where was I? Right, you were incredibly drunk when you attacked Dr. Watson. The little scratch marks on his leg? They could only be done with a shard of a beer bottle; the scratches were too crooked to be anything else. If you were sober, you would've made long lacerations on his leg, but you made short shallow cuts, showing that you couldn't think straight. Not mentioning the cloddish way you hit him with a metal pole, and how you didn't even break the security cameras nearby. Both facts pointing to that you were drunk, really, the only reason you aren't dead right now was that you managed to knock Dr. Watson unconscious," Sherlock leaned against the table till their faces were nearly touching and his voice turned into a low, dangerous growl, "and honestly, I wouldn't care if you were. Because you injured a person I care about; and people who hurt the people I care about, shouldn’t get off as easy as you did."

 

William Smith snarled, “Look here you fu-”

 

Sherlock cut him off with a slap in the face and a glare, "Idiot," Sherlock snapped up and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

 

The moment Sherlock exited, Lestrade asked him a question, "Did you find out anything?"

 

Sherlock briskly walked in front of Lestrade, "I figured it out last night. William Smith attacked John because he wanted money he couldn't obtain."

 

Lestrade scrambled to catch up with him, "What else?"

 

"I was getting to that. He was friends with Blythe Evans."

 

"The robber and killer?"

 

"Precisely. William Smith recently divorced from a lady named Aralc Oswald. And based on his records, after a year into their marriage -about last year- William became unemployed and he and his wife were solely dependent on the wife's income. Due to the stress of unemployment, he started drinking. He then started to use drugs a few months after that, smoking all the while. He used his wife's money to buy drugs, tobacco, and alcohol, which didn't please the wife at all when she found out. They divorced soon after that. But remember, William was unemployed. He had no money, so he turned to Blythe Evans, who promised him a substantial amount of money if William assisted in the robberies and killings Blythe committed."

 

Lestrade held up a hand, "Wait, how was he not found along with Blythe Evans? If they worked together, wouldn't they be committing the crimes, together?"

 

"Please Lestrade, use your brain. William was working in the background, making sure to hide his tracks."

 

"Oh. Go on."

 

"I was about to. Blythe was about to hand William the money until Blythe was arrested about a month ago."

 

"By you and John."

 

Sherlock sighed, "Yes. He somehow found out that John and I were the reason Blythe was in prison, most likely from the news, and William wanted revenge. So one night, after William had gotten considerably drunk, he had seen John and attacked him."

 

Lestrade nodded in understanding, "So in the end, it was all about revenge?"

 

"No, there were a couple other factors other than revenge, but yes, a major factor was revenge."

 

"Sometimes I think the world would be a better place if people thought of other solutions than revenge."

 

"That world would be highly improbable, but indeed, a major improvement in our world today."

\-------------

When they exited the building, Sherlock hailed a cab for him and Lestrade to go to the A&E and visit John. Once they arrived, Sherlock walked out leaving Lestrade to pay the cab driver and entered the building. Apparently, someone, (most likely Mycroft) had informed the employees and nursed about their arrival and Sherlock and Lestrade were allowed to visit John with no implications.

 

When they got entered John's room, John was awake and sitting up. John turned his head towards Sherlock and Lestrade and when his eyes set on Sherlock, he visibly tensed. There was a stifling silence that persisted for a few, long seconds before Lestrade couldn't handle it and broke it, "I heard you beat up the bloke who attacked you pretty badly."

 

John smiled tightly, "All in day's work." The silence set again for a moment before John cleared his throat, "Lestrade, could I speak to Sherlock in private?"

 

Lestrade nodded and exited the room, leaving only Sherlock and John. They stared at each other for a few seconds,

"I'm sorry Sherlock," John paused, "for leaving. I-I didn't know what I was thinking. It's not your fault, I just- god -I'm so sorry."

 

"I'm sorry too."

 

John looked at Sherlock quizzically, "Why are you sorry?"

 

Sherlock hesitated, "I'm the reason this happened to you. The assailant, William Smith, had connections to Blythe Evans -the man we arrested last month- and William wanted revenge. He had figured out that you and I had a hand in arresting him, and when he saw you, well, he was drunk and he set upon attacking you."

 

John stared at Sherlock, "That wasn't your fault Sherlock. Really, it's my fault. I should've never left in the first place. It wasn't your fault, really."

 

Sherlock studied John's eyes, finding no signs of mendaciousness, and slowly -as if in a trance- closed the space between him and John, his pulse was racing and his palms were sweaty.

 

John swallowed thickly, "Sher, Sherlock, what- hmph!"

 

His lips slammed into Sherlock's as Sherlock pulled John forward by the collar of his hospital gown.

 

The kiss ended as soon as it began as Sherlock immediately pulled away, "S-sorry, oh god-"

John used his good arm to grab Sherlock by his coat and yanked Sherlock towards him, "Shut up." He pulled Sherlock and their lips met in the middle, John's arm on the back of Sherlock's neck as Sherlock grabbed the sides of John’s face.

 

Sherlock’s mind raced but stayed still. All he could think, all he could feel, all he could grasp, was John. Not his best friend, not his flatmate, but John.

 

_Just John._

_John as sweet as jam yet as rough as the toast it sits on._

_John as soft as a blanket yet as firm as the mattress it’s laid on._

 

They could’ve stayed there forever, lips conjoined together, body’s connected like two pieces of a puzzle-

An awkward cough came from the doorway.

 

They jumped apart, an awkward Lestrade standing in the doorway, “I-I, um, I couldn’t hear anything so I wanted to make sure you two were alright. It seems you two, are, so I’ll just go…” He slowly backed out and closed the door, and left John and Sherlock, blushing madly.

 

The next day, let’s just say, when Sherlock and John went back to 221B, Mrs. Hudson was waiting for them, asking them if they still needed two bedrooms.

The End 

\------------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the weird metaphors...
> 
> Thank you for everyone who read this story and gave kudos! This was a great first fanfiction experience and I'll keep writing!
> 
> Also, I finally got a Tumblr account and I'm posting stuff already! Come check it out! You might like it!
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/loveinthefandoms


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